


Morgana At Rest

by Jenwryn



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Domestic, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-06
Updated: 2010-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-05 21:09:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenwryn/pseuds/Jenwryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen likes it, when their daytime routine curves in such a way that they're left together at nightfall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morgana At Rest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tierfal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tierfal/gifts).



> This is for my girlfriend, simply because there's a chance she might like it, aha. ♥
> 
> Anyways, I have a serious lack of confidence when it comes to trying to write for this fandom, erp. Still, my house is almost-empty and definitely quiet, and apparently this is the result of that, hmm. [Please no comments about Season 2, because I haven't watched it yet.]

The book is heavy, old, and it pushes at Gwen's wrists as she holds it above her head, so as to better read it from where she's laying, Morgana's cushions at her back. It's already late, and the glow of the candles isn't as good as it could be, but Gwen doesn't mind. She likes it, when their daytime routine curves in such a way that they're left together at nightfall. She likes it, when she can read for Morgana. Gwen can hear the woman breathing beside her, a soft pull and tug of inhalation. Gwen doesn't take her eyes off of the page above her – she keeps her voice clear and winds her tongue carefully around the words, because she's reading for Morgana, and therefore cares how it sounds. Gwen doesn't take her eyes off of the page, no, but she's been here before. She knows, without looking. She can see Morgana in her mind's eye, a memory stitched of skin and dark hair; Morgana will have her lashes against the pale of her cheeks; Morgana will have her hands knit together, upon the dip of her belly, or resting loosely, on the skirt of her nightdress.

Gwen loves the sight of Morgana at rest; loves the sight, even when she cannot see it.

Gwen keeps her voice bright and steady; lets her feelings play out in the letters on her lips.

Sometimes Morgana shifts, moving closer, brushing her hair to one side, making some small comment on the text. Mostly she's silent. Hush. Skin and bone and the rhythm of words. Every shush-shush of Morgana's breath presses like a kiss against Gwen's heart. So, and so, and just like that. Morgana never falls asleep to the sound of Gwen's reading, but she shows when she's tired – a small shift, and a hand that moves, across sheets and space, to touch just above Gwen's lowest right rib. Gwen smiles, and finishes the page that she's on; doesn't need to mention the fingers at her side. They've been here before. The candles flicker in the fine pull of light towards the window. Gwen closes the book softly and sets it to one side, and Morgana's fingers push a little firmer; spread to place a palm out flat against Gwen's body. Gwen pushes away the cushions and rests closer to her friend, her mistress; gathers soft skin and warm heart unto herself, and strokes dark hair until Morgana's consciousness drifts.

Gwen presses lips to a noble forehead.

God willing, her lady will sleep tonight.


End file.
